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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881613">Nostalgia Cycle</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/feentanz/pseuds/feentanz'>feentanz</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shots [46]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Nikolai Series - Leigh Bardugo, The Grisha Trilogy - Leigh Bardugo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Angst and Feels, F/M, bedsharing sort of?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-12-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-10 15:20:23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,950</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27881613</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/feentanz/pseuds/feentanz</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>She raised her head now, seemingly waiting for a reply. Her hand was still resting against his chest, and yet her face was now directly in front of his own, her eyes imploring. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a plan,” Zoya said quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. “I expected better, Your Highness.” A small smirk played around her lips, and she looked so beautiful that Nikolai could barely breathe. “I like to improvise,” he replied, but his voice was raw and didn’t sound like his own. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t break eye contact. He almost wished Zoya would turn away, putting him out of his misery. He didn’t wish to long for something he could never have. </p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Nikolai Lantsov/Zoya Nazyalensky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>One Shots [46]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/594364</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>4</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>65</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Nostalgia Cycle</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Prompt: Character A and character B get locked in together during a snowstorm</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>“We’re not trapped in here!” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai gave Zoya a rather tired look, frowning as he watched her inspect the windows a third time, then the door. “We are, in fact, trapped here. You should start to accept that.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No way,” his general muttered, pushing herself against the door which refused to move. It didn’t help, naturally. But Zoya wasn’t the type to give up, and so she tried again. And again. The door didn’t move an inch. They were trapped. In the middle of a snowstorm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Leave it, Nazyalensky,” Nikolai remarked, who was finding it rather painful to watch her attempts. “You’re going to hurt yourself.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya ignored his advice, as usual. Instead, she tried the windows again. “Perhaps if we open it, we can climb through the snow.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai huffed. “And freeze to death?”</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She shot him a dark look. “Do you have a better idea?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>None, but Nikolai wasn’t quite ready to admit that. They were a couple hundred miles away from the capital, stuck in a wooden hut, with nothing but an old fireplace. If the snow continued to fall, they would be in big trouble. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai eyed Zoya, who was shivering as she continued to pace the room. “We have to wait out the storm,” he said eventually. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya snorted. “You really are a genius.” She pulled her wool </span>
  <em>
    <span>kefta </span>
  </em>
  <span>closer around herself, hiding her shaking hands. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai slipped out of his coat, ignoring the biting cold he was immediately met with. “We better start a fire,” he suggested, holding his coat out to Zoya. “Take this.”<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>She narrowed her eyes at him, immediately crossing her arms. “No.”<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“That was an order, Nazyalensky.” He surely wouldn’t watch her freeze to death here. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya merely turned away. “I’ll build a fire,” she announced, ignoring the coat in his hand and walking through the small living room space. She knelt down in front of the few wooden blocks which perhaps once had been a fireplace. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai rolled his eyes, deciding to join her. “You’re always such excellent company, Nazyalensky.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya glared at him, batting her long lashes. “There are a lot of men in Ravka who would be begging to be stuck here with me, Your Highness.” She shrugged. “You should consider yourself lucky.” </span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>And that he did. Nikolai chuckled, eyeing the wood. “How do you suggest we start a fire?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya pursed her lips, thinking. “If you produce a spark, I can manipulate the fire.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Now that was easier said than done. “Without burning down the entire thing?” Nikolai asked, but he picked up two wooden blocks nevertheless. He knew better than to argue with Zoya right now. Especially considering her current mood. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re not helping,” Zoya muttered, her eyes fixed on the wood. Nikolai rubbed the two blocks together, attempting to create a spark. It took them a good ten minutes until it worked, and even then Zoya almost set the carpet on fire. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the end, though, the fire was burning. Barely. They didn’t have enough wood, and getting new supplies seemed to be out of the question. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The fire won’t last the night,” Nikolai stated the obvious. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya was back to pacing the room, wringing her hands. He wasn’t sure if it was a nervous habit or her way of keeping warm. He was hoping for the latter. Because if his general was nervous, things were looking really bad. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was also still freezing, and he was tired of watching it. Nikolai picked up his coat again, and this time he reached for Zoya’s wrist. “Put this on. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Now.</span>
  </em>
  <span>”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So demanding today, Your Highness,” Zoya remarked, but she took the coat anyway. “If one of us has to freeze to death, it shouldn’t be the king,” she added. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai frowned. “No one is dying here.” He only noticed that he was still holding her wrist then, suddenly too aware of the touch. Or how close she was standing. Or how he could feel the echo of her breath against his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He dropped her wrist. Zoya’s gaze shot up, meeting his own for a second before she turned away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai silently cursed herself, retreating a few steps. But this place was too small. He had nowhere to run. “So,” he said instead. “What are we going to do all night?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya raised an eyebrow. “I assume you have a suggestion.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He huffed, sitting down in front of the fireplace. The carpet was at least warmer than the rest of the place. “You could finally tell me that story you promised me,” he suggested, although he hardly expected Zoya to comply. What she had told him back in the fold had been a lot already, and he didn’t mean to pry. Only a little, perhaps. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya watched him for a few seconds, looking like she was composing a complex battle strategy where she didn’t know the outcome yet. Then she finally sat down, crossing her legs. Even wrapped into his coat, she was slightly shivering. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai tried hard not to notice how her lips were already a slight blue, or how her hands trembled before she hid them inside her sleeves. But he couldn’t ignore his rising anxiety about those facts. “May I suggest something?” he asked, keeping his tone light. “But try not to hurt me in return.”<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>A slight smirk crossed Zoya’s face. “I can’t make any promises.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He held out his hand to her. “Move closer?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya narrowed her eyes. “I’m not cold.”<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>“Maybe I am.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She almost smiled at that. “If that’s the case,” she replied, careful to avoid his eyes when she slipped closer. “I wouldn’t want my king to suffer.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How very generous of my general.” Nikolai rested his back against the wall, staying still as Zoya leaned against his side carefully. Her hair brushed the skin of his neck when she rested her head against his shoulder, still keeping some distance between the rest of their bodies. He could feel the soft rise and fall of her shoulders whenever she inhaled. He could smell her hair. He could feel her everywhere. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai moved carefully, wrapping his arm around Zoya’s waist and pulling her a little closer. He wasn’t sure what had possessed him to act, but she also didn’t resist. He could now feel her breath grazing his neck. Her fingers came to rest against his chest, and even through the fabric of his clothes, the touch seemed to burn his skin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think Genya and David have things handled in the capital?” Zoya asked suddenly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai hadn’t even given that a second thought just yet. He had been too occupied. “We’ve only been gone for a day,” he replied. “I’m sure the capital is still standing.”<br/>
</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Zoya huffed, but her body relaxed a little. “If the snow doesn’t stop tomorrow,” she said quietly. “What do we do then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai remained silent. He didn’t know. He usually had a plan for everything, and then another plan covering every obstacle that could possibly go wrong, but he hadn’t been prepared for this. He hadn’t been prepared to be stuck in a snowstorm, and even less for the fact that he didn’t mind having Zoya all to himself even one bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She raised her head now, seemingly waiting for a reply. Her hand was still resting against his chest, and yet her face was now directly in front of his own, her eyes imploring. “Don’t tell me you don’t have a plan,” Zoya said quietly, voice barely more than a whisper. “I expected better, Your Highness.” A small smirk played around her lips, and she looked so beautiful that Nikolai could barely breathe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I like to improvise,” he replied, but his voice was raw and didn’t sound like his own. He couldn’t look away, couldn’t break eye contact. He almost wished Zoya would turn away, putting him out of his misery. He didn’t wish to long for something he could never have. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet she didn’t. Instead, she dropped her gaze to his lips for a mere second, then returned to his eyes. It was so faint that he thought he had imagined it. But at the same time, he knew that he hadn’t. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya’s fingers were brushing the skin of his neck, right above his collar. A subconscious move she didn’t seem to be aware of. They were too intimate. Already now they had crossed a line. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And because that line had already been crossed, and because Nikolai was so tired of holding back, of denying himself what he wanted, he leaned forward and kissed her. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya had not expected this. She hadn’t expected this intimacy, this fragile state of being, the comfort Nikolai’s arms had given her. She wasn’t used to being comforted or allowing herself to relax around someone. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Least of all, she had expected this kiss. Nikolai had kissed her with a sudden urgency that had taken her off guard, and it had taken her a good few seconds to realize that she was in fact kissing him back. And she didn’t mind one bit. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya’s fingers ran up his neck, pressing herself closer against him, her body acting without her consent. She was sitting in his lab before she realized, still unable to separate from him. Their kisses were stringing magic. The rest of the world was drowning while the two of them lived. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai suddenly pulled away. His hand rested at the back of her neck, fingers running through her hair. Zoya could still feel his breath on her lips. Again, she was unable to look anywhere else but his eyes. “Nikolai-” she began, but never got to finish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t argue, Nazyalensky,” he muttered and then they were kissing again, and any coherent thought was wiped from her mind. “Just don’t argue right now.”</span><br/>

  <span><br/>
</span>
  <span>Zoya laughed against her will, despite the bizarreness of the situation, despite everything they were both risking. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But she didn't argue. Not even when Nikolai picked her up around the waist, or when he carried her into the next door bedroom. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her critical thinking ability only returned when her back hit the mattress, and even then Zoya felt her head swim as Nikolai kissed along the line of her jaw, making her shiver under the touch. “We shouldn’t be doing this,” she muttered, only half aware that she was even speaking, too distracted by the way his lips skimmed along her skin, her fingers curling up in his hair</span>
  <span>—</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai stilled, lifting his head so he could meet her gaze. His eyes were slightly hazy, his lips swollen ever so slightly. His hair was ruffled, and she wanted nothing more than to run her fingers through the golden curls again. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Just now, he looked nothing like a king. And she suspected that she didn’t look much like a general either. Perhaps only today they could pretend. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you want me to stop?” Nikolai breathed against her skin, so close and yet not touching her. Waiting for her to make the decision. Maybe that was the only way he could live with it afterwards. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya softly shook her head, not able to say the words. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai leaned forward, lips brushing against hers, the faint promise of a kiss. “I want to hear you say it.” There was a glimpse of their usual teasing in his eyes. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya held his gaze, refusing to back down. “Why? So back in the capital, you can claim I seduced you?” Her voice was playful but slightly uneven. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai chuckled in response, running a hand along the side of her neck, fingers cupping her cheek. Zoya felt her heart flutter for a second, and she loathed herself. “As usual, you have seen right through my plans, Nazyalensky,” he replied, leaning down to kiss the side of her neck. “I was rendered helpless by your charm.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya bit her lip to stifle a laugh, dropping her head back against the pillows. “I knew it,” she muttered, allowing her arms to wrap back around Nikolai’s neck, tracing his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They could have this one night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Tomorrow, she would be a general again. Tomorrow, they would deal with the consequences. </span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>When Zoya woke up, she was freezing. The temperature had dropped during the night, or perhaps she had been too occupied the night before to notice. She raised her head, still half asleep, only then realizing where she was. Or what had happened last night. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Her eyes found Nikolai, who still seemed fast asleep. One of his arms was lazily wrapped around her, trapping her against his body. Her head had apparently been resting on his chest, and Zoya felt her heart rate spiking at the realization. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She carefully slipped away from his grip, climbing out of the bed without a sound and wrapping herself back up in Nikolai’s coat. Her fingers were trembling when she finally got to her feet, suddenly noticing something that she had missed the night before. Right above the bed, a green twig had been attached to the ceiling. A twig that looked suspiciously like a mistletoe. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya swallowed hard, turning away, rushing out of the room before accidentally waking Nikolai. She wasn’t a superstitious person, and yet she felt suddenly uneasy. And foolish. So foolish. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What had she been thinking? </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She brushed the thoughts away for now, as well as the memories which came with remembering last night. The feeling of Nikolai’s lips against hers, his hands on her skin. The way he had looked at her. The intimacy. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>How it had all felt so natural. The inevitable finally happening. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya shook her head at herself, instead crossing the room and making her way towards the door. Last night’s fire had long gone out, and she feared that if they would be stuck here for another day, they might very well end up freezing to death. They had to get out of this place. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She was still shaking, despite the coat, and yet she threw her entire weight against the door, praying to whichever Saints who might be listening to just grant her this one wish. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She wasn’t sure if she could make it another night trapped with Nikolai in this place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door suddenly gave way, and Zoya almost stumbled in surprise. She kicked it open the rest of the way, a chunk of snow narrowly missing her. The hut was still pretty much covered in snow, but they could probably manage to get away. The next village wasn’t too far if Nikolai’s map had been correct. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see you have been hard at work,” a voice behind her suddenly said, and Zoya jumped in surprise. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai was leaning against the doorway, gaze fixed on her. His hair was still messy, but at least he was wearing clothes. But there was something about his expression that she couldn’t quite explain, something that hadn’t been there before. Something quite like… longing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya swallowed, looking away and closing the door behind herself. It was already cold enough in this hellhole. “We need to get going,” she said, wrapping the coat closer around herself. It even smelled of Nikolai, she suddenly noticed. She refused to look at him again, instead playing with a loose strand on her sleeve. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I did grow quite fond of this place,” Nikolai replied, his tone cheerful, but he wasn’t fooling Zoya. She could hear the tension in his voice, the same tension she also felt. She wasn’t sure how to look at him anymore. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I much prefer the Little Palace,” Zoya replied briskly, crossing her arms. “Can we leave?” She longed for the comfort of the capital, her own rooms, and also a hot bath. And distance from Nikolai. A chance to forget what had happened. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The king looked at her for a moment, as if he was debating whether to argue or not. He stepped closer, then hesitated. It was very unlike Nikolai. She wasn’t sure she had ever seen him undecided before. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Involuntarily, Zoya remembered the mistletoe. And the meaning it held in Ravkan folklore. Two people who kissed beneath it were supposed to be married. A stupid superstition, told by peasants and people who didn’t know better. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We should leave,” she repeated. “Before we freeze to death out here.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai lifted his head, still looking conflicted. “Fine,” he said eventually. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They packed up their few belongings in silence, then climbed through the snow and away from the hut. Zoya was still freezing, burying her hands in the sleeves of her coat to keep herself from trembling too much. She was so focused on the cold that she forgot to watch her steps, immediately slipping and losing her balance. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai caught her, his warm breath suddenly grazing her neck, his arms around her. Even through the coat, his touch sent a shiver down her spine. “Is this a scream for my attention, Nazyalensky?” he muttered into her ear, a grin tugging at his lips. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya rolled her eyes, pulling away and straightening her back. “In your dreams, Your Highness,” she replied, adding her sweetest smile. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Nikolai smirked, and Zoya’s heart was suddenly lighter. This was familiar. This was who they had been before yesterday, before they had risked everything they had built over the years. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She glanced at Nikolai, wondering if he was contemplating the same thing. But he was staring straight ahead, watching the horizon. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Zoya dropped her gaze down to her boots, walking in silence. They would learn to live with it, the shadow of last night, the weight of the memories. They had to. If not for themselves, at least for the country they both loved. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Ravka was no place where a king was free to fall in love with his general. </span>
</p>
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